


Five Times He Saw Her and One Time He Didn't

by stardropdream



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd always known each other, and that was enough for him to always follow her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times He Saw Her and One Time He Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ April 5, 2008.

**One:**  
  
When he first saw her, he didn’t appreciate her beauty. He was young at the time and she was even younger, and he was at that stage where girls were nothing short of an enigma. (His father later told him that, no, women were always enigmas.)  
  
He came across her when he was going out to catch some fish for his father. He emerged from the forest to the river and she was standing in the water, holding the hem of her summer yukata above her knees. She was concentrating, staring down at the water, and her long hair curled down her back.  
  
He was only eight years of age at the time and she was only about five, and instead of thinking she was beautiful or kind, he thought her annoying to be standing in his river when he was supposed to get fish.  
  
The young lord-to-be splashed water on her and she shrieked, whirling around, her yukata falling from her hands and dipping into the water.  
  
“I need to catch fish,” he told her stubbornly, giving her his best commanding look.  
  
She blinked and her eyes were large and round and innocent. He frowned at her when she didn’t speak right away.  
  
“Aren’t there other parts of the river?” she asked softly, and had he had any poetic appreciation in his body he would have compared her voice to a nightingale. Instead, he merely scowled stubbornly and splashed more water on her so she shrieked again.  
  
  
  
  
 **Two:**  
  
When he saw her again he almost didn’t recognize her. He’d begun his training with his father in preparation for his eventual lordship. She was training to be the next miko of Suwa. It was decided long before they were even aware that they would be married. He never dwelled on these things, as he was a young boy of eleven and trying to catch up to his father’s strength. She was a young girl of eight and was often in the temple, honing her magic.  
  
One day he returned to the river and found her sitting on a rock in the middle of it. She didn’t look up when he approached, but he knew that she had felt him by the slight tensing of her shoulders. She faced away from him, but her head was slightly angled downwards, watching the water.  
  
“There are no fish today,” she said, her voice still so soft he nearly missed it over the sound of rushing water.  
  
“How’d you get out there?” he asked instead of acknowledging her words.  
  
She looked at him over her shoulder, and her hair was still just as long. It was tied in the traditional hairstyle of a miko and she wore the miko garb. He stared at her for a long moment and realized, vaguely, that his cheeks were turning pink. He looked away, his brow furrowing.  
  
“I walked,” she told him, her lips curved into a smile too elegant for an eight-year-old. “There are many stepping stones in this river.”  
  
“What if you fell in? Your clothes would be too heavy for you to swim,” he protested and wondered why he was worried.  
  
“I suppose I would drown,” she said sweetly, her eyes soft.  
  
He frowned and marched his way across the river, mindful of where he was stepping. He approached her and hoisted himself up onto the rock she sat on.  
  
She sat with her knees pulled to her chest and she greeted him with that same, gentle smile. Her eyes were soft and he knew his cheeks were still bright pink but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  
  
“Hello,” she said once he’d situated himself properly on the rock.  
  
“Hi,” he said bashfully.  
  
“What are you doing out here?” she asked, innocent and smiling.  
  
He made a vague sound. “Making sure you don’t fall in.”  
  
“How kind of you, young master,” she said warmly.  
  
His cheeks turned redder at her words and he looked away stubbornly, gripping his sword tightly in his fist and looking out for anything that could possibly come down the riverbed and try to knock the young miko off the rock.  
  
  
  
  
 **Three:**  
  
He came to the river often and she always seemed to be there, sitting on a rock in the river, sitting on the shore, or wading through the icy water.  
  
“Why do you do that?” he asked one day from his position on shore, watching the young girl hoist her miko robes to her knees. Through the bending of light in the water he could see her digging her toes into the riverbed.  
  
“Suwa is protected by water,” she said gently. “It provides the life force. It is because of the waters protecting Suwa that the kekkai does not fail.”  
  
“Huh,” he said, remembering hearing something along those lines from his mother. He was often busy training with his father and his vassals, and knew little of the miko’s roles, even those of his own mother. “I thought the miko was the one to make sure the kekkai doesn’t fail.”  
  
“The water helps my magic,” she said, though it appeared she was speaking to the water and not him. He frowned thoughtfully.  
  
“Isn’t it cold?”  
  
“I suppose,” she said, though her teeth did not chatter and she did not shiver. Her smile and her eyes were warm enough to melt any ice.  
  
He was about to say something more but her young voice lifted into a soft song. It started out quiet for the longest time, her melody so soft he almost didn’t hear it. She lifted her head towards the sky, pressing a hand to her chest as she praised the waters that protected Suwa. And the young lord-to-be was overcome by her beauty for the first time.  
  
He had to look away before he was caught staring. The way her hair shined in the mid-afternoon sunlight. The way her eyes sparkled when she spoke to him, and him alone. The way her voice drifted on the wind like birdsong. He knew his cheeks were pink but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  
  
  
  
  
 **Four:**  
  
When he saw her again, she was the miko of Suwa. His late mother, the former miko, was dead. When he saw her again she was now a young girl of twelve. She was knelt before the altar and praying and he just caught a glimpse of her back before servants closed the door in front of him and claimed the need for ‘purity.’ He stalked away, wishing he could have stopped and spoken to her.  
  
His father had been incredibly harsh in his training that day, perhaps as a consolation for the death of his late wife. They both worked hard, trying to distract one another from the pain of the loss. He was a young man of fifteen and, deep down, they both knew that his time to become the next lord of Suwa was quickly drawing near. He had to be strong to command respect and he had to be compassionate to earn that respect.  
  
After the training, he found himself sitting on the steps leading down to the training area, rubbing sourly at his left arm where his father had hit him harder than expected. He watched the sun sink towards the horizon and almost missed the gentle footsteps approaching him.  
  
When he looked up to see who was sitting beside him, he was greeted by the new miko. Despite her young age it was as if she’d aged tremendously in a short span of time. She looked like the regal miko she was supposed to be. The markings on her forehead, signifying her status as the miko of Suwa, were a new feature.  
  
“Hello,” he said, because it seemed like the polite thing to say.  
  
She pressed a cool washcloth against his arm. “Hello, young master.”  
  
“You can call me by name,” he said, gripping her hand in his. Her hand was smooth and his already had calluses.  
  
She smiled sweetly and looked like she was going to say yes. And then she shook her head. “It would be improper, young master.”  
  
“You could do it when nobody else was around,” he said stubbornly but knew she had a point.  
  
When he glanced at her again, she was smiling warmly, her soft eyes staring at him fondly. He felt his cheeks turn pink and he jerked away, pressing his hand against the cloth she’d put on his arm. His fingers brushed hers.  
  
“Thanks,” he muttered to the ground.  
  
He heard her laughter and he almost melted. “You’re always welcome.”  
  
And then he felt rather than heard her approach, and her soft lips were inches away from his ear. And she whispered his name quietly, the barest of sound passing over his ear, her soft breath caressing his cheek as she pulled away. As she retreated, he stared at her, disbelief and something else lingering in his eyes. Her eyes were soft in return as she turned around and rushed away.  
  
  
  
  
 **Five:**  
  
At seventeen he became the lord of Suwa, as his father passed away protecting Suwa against a demon. When he heard the news the sky was cloudy and threatened rain. He said nothing, simply nodded his head and walked away, trying to ignore the way his new followers bowed as he passed.  
  
He didn’t show a flicker of weakness as he walked away, and no one made a move to stop him. He didn’t allow himself to think until he’d reached the river and collapsed at the riverside. He bowed his head and clenched his eyes shut, digging his fingertips into the soft soil parallel to the riverbed.  
  
A splash of water alerted him that he was not alone. He whipped his head up in time to see the miko wading towards him, her heavy miko garb clenched in her hands. Though her clothes were far too heavy to save from the water, she seemed unconcerned about it.  
  
He stared at her, wide-eyed as she approached. Her eyes were gently hooded and she said nothing for a long time. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.  
  
“My lord,” she said quietly and dropped her hold on her robes in order to reach her hand out to him.  
  
He stared at it for half a second before he caught it in his steady grip, his eyes wide and haunted.  
  
“I’ll be fine,” he said and hated himself for how weak he sounded. He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, and hated how it betrayed his true feelings. Even if it was only to her. “It’s nothing.”  
  
“And yet your grip is tight,” she said and under any other circumstances he would have sputtered at her for teasing him. Instead he just ducked his head and tried to ignore the way her thumb was sweeping over his bruised knuckles in such a soft caress.  
  
He heard her drop down next to him on the riverbed, and that soft maiden’s song rose to his ears, the tiniest whisper of a nightingale as she sang a song of mourning. It was quiet and somber and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything as she sang. He was captivated.  
  
“My lord,” she said again, but he wasn’t listening because his hand was tightly holding hers and his free hand was touching a long strand of her hair.  
  
She looked as if she were about to say more, but instead fell silent as he raised the hair to his lips and kissed it silently, his eyes trained on hers and refusing to waver.  
  
“My lady,” he murmured and for the first time in her life she was struck speechless.  
  
  
  
  
  
 **One:**  
  
He never saw her again after he marched out of their home, mounting the horses and riding to the where the kekkai’s barrier ended and the desolate wasteland thrived. He was fighting hard. Very hard. It seemed fruitless. The men fell around him like flies.  
  
He felt himself charging forward, on foot, for the horses had long since been frightened away. Ginryuu gripped tightly in his hands, red eyes narrowed in determination.  
  
And then he felt the kekkai drop.  
  
The world suddenly seemed a little bit colder, a little bit quieter. People were still screaming. The air was still thick with blood and promise. But he felt the magical barrier dissolve behind him, and he knew that he had outlived her.  
  
That one moment of hesitation, that one moment where he looked over his shoulder, whispering her name… it was enough to end it.  
  
He followed her quickly. He always found her.


End file.
